Unexpected
by Hakucho
Summary: Set after 'A Game of You', when the Thessalian witch falls into a dream, and finds herself in direct meeting with a familiar face from the past.


Thessaly dreams…

And there's a man in her dream. She thought that she'd already had enough of that in her life. She wasn't _completely_ past her prime, but she was past having any interest in the opposite sex other than for purposes which were _not_ related to the superficial "laws of attraction" that society (or in her case, _societies_) would keep flaunting to people of her sex.

And what's more, he's too _thin_. Certainly not her type, if she had one (or would even _admit_ to having one).

'**Ah. So it's you…**' there was a sense of unease in the Dream King's voice as he noted the young woman in front of him. He had come across a variety of many different people, mostly when he passed through their thoughts as they slept; but there was no mistaking the long hair, large glasses or that look of apparent indifference. '**You have come here…to the Dreaming.**' He eyed her warily from a short distance, as if he were a snake handler who suddenly realized that he was now in close contact with a deadly brown krait. The last time that she interfered with the realm of the Dreaming, had left very drastic consequences on that of the living.

'**Is there a particular reason that you have chosen to return to this world, Thessalian?**' He paused, briefly reconsidering that perhaps she had a different motive this time to her previous one. '**Perhaps it's something for which you had decided to seek my aid-**'

'I _didn't_ come to seek your aid,' she interrupted; finding herself annoyed at how high and mighty he seemed to think about himself. '…Although I will admit, that it's very unlikely to be a "coincidence" that you've turned up here too, Dream-King.' Past encounters with other immortal beings had taught her that there wasn't necessarily any such thing as coincidence. Especially for those of her kind, who usually took the initiative in deciding out their paths by themselves.

Nonetheless, this didn't change that there was a near-awkward moment between the witch-woman and the Lord of the Dreaming. Unusually for the both of them, one party wasn't entirely sure what was happening, while the other didn't know whether to take the former's presence as a dubious thing (at best) or nothing to worry about.

'**But it is **_**you**_** who has come here…there must be a reason behind your travels, for which you may have wanted-**'

'I _said_, I didn't _want_ your help.' That was two times in a row now, that she cut in before he could finish a sentence. Thessaly (as she told others to call her, these days) didn't really care much for otherworldly authorities, but she could see that she seemed to have already irked the Dream Lord by her assertive behaviour. Or at least she thought that she irked him, as he now looked at her intently. Like he wasn't sure whether to get angry at her for such signs of insolence or to try asking her again about what she wanted.

She felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she seemed to have dumbfounded him. '**I see…**' There didn't look to be any way of getting a straight answer out of her, at this moment. Either she had entered into his domain, or she had summoned it and him to come to her in her mind (which wasn't an impossible concept in itself, since the waking world could manipulate the world of the Endless as they pleased), along with its master. And the Thessalian, regardless of her great powers, was just as able to do that like other beings without ever disrupting the balance of waking reality if she chose to.

Though whether she would even admit to having chosen to stand before him, in his world, would have to wait until she decided to be more open with him. '**Nonetheless, lady, it does not change that you have travelled this way. As it does not change that, as a visitor to my realm, I shall be responsible for your well-being in the Dreaming**.' The witch-woman then raised one eyebrow, at the change of tone in his ancient, scribe-like voice. Just what he trying to pull..?

'I have to say, that I wasn't exactly expecting that kind of response from _you_...' In the times of her sisterhood, when there were several others of her kind, the hailed Lord of Dreams didn't seem to think much about their passage through his land. In a way, it gave her the impression that he didn't really approve of the magic and traditions that they had practised and followed; as if it were somehow beneath him to acknowledge or accept that there were less than "conventional" methods of shifting the line between the mortals' world and the immortals.

'**I do not wish to bear you any ill-will or sustain any grudge, Thessalian,**' he replied, in an almost apologetic fashion. '**What had happened before, is now past, and my words to you then remain well-meant and freely given. I hope that you will not take it as any cause for suspicion on your behalf.**' Cause for suspicion…as if she hadn't see through his tricks, already.

'I think I know what you're insinuating, Lord Morpheus,' spoke the small, brown-haired woman who appeared much younger and much more innocent looking than her actual years. 'I didn't ask for your advice back then, and because I apparently can't be _trusted_ after last time, you're going to keep an eye on me the whole time to make sure I don't _repeat_ what's perfectly in my rights again.'

'**That is not exactly why I-**'

'It's been a long time, but you never really _liked_ my kind, did you?' He was stopped abruptly and looked at her face again. Albeit now, it wasn't so much that she dared to continue interrupting him, but the words that fell out of her mouth. The directness with which she spoke to him, the air of defiance she seemed to hold against his authority. He didn't take particularly well to people who attacked him in his own domain, which he ruled before either any one of his guests – mortal, god, or otherwise – were even born. But he also couldn't afford to act in gracious to either of them. '**I…I did say, that I do not mean you ill-will**.'

There was a brief silence between the two, where she looked back at him from behind bookish, large-rimmed glasses, and he looked down at her, bemused, with eyes of stars, welled in black pools of water. 'That wasn't what it felt like back then.' She said, not changing the slightly irritated expression she was wearing at the moment. The Dream King found himself being reminded of another person who had confronted him in a rather similar manner…who, in spite of what the suffering and pain he had condemned her to, still refused to cower down in fear of him after she was freed in the end by his own will.

'…**I'm sorry, that you had felt that way, Thessalian.**' She had the benefit of being a free agent all this time that hadn't had the misfortune of crossing him so far as to incur the worse of his wrath. However, if she were to be here in the Dreaming, then it would have suited the both of them that her stay (however short) was calm and less destructive than inclined towards it. '**I was merely acting in the interests dictated by my responsibilities. It would not have been fitting for the realm of the Dreaming to have become a haven for bloodshed or unsanctioned ritual, and I did not wish to see countless others be endangered in their sleep by enemies, from the waking world.**'

'…Even when their lives were _ours_ to take?' came the question. The third of the Elder three of the Endless hesitated, before he answered her back.

'**…No. Not even then. But their lives were their own, and whatever matters you had, could have been more appropriately settled outside of my realm. It was my responsibility to ensure that violence did not befall the Dreaming, and it still remains my responsibility to see to it that those who arrive here, without purpose of ill intent, are left unharmed, if not necessarily unchanged by what happens to them. As it is my responsibility to see to it that your visit does not lead you to any harm, as well.**' The witch-woman's face appeared to soften (even if only a little), when the Lord of Dreams had explained himself and his previous stance towards her so long ago; before there was a Barbie, before there was a Cuckoo, and long before she was the only one out of her kind who was left standing.

'Hm. You did always seem to be a stickler for your rules, Dream King,' she commented, with her arms folded casually across the front of her pale night gown. 'In fact…now that I remember, you'd always say that you couldn't _permit_ us to carry out what we'd planned, or something to that effect if it involved you or the Dreaming in any way.'

'**But you have sought me out, Thessalian, and now...**'

'Didn't you hear what I said, before? I said that I didn't _want_ to seek you out!' Apparently, she could only stay passive-aggressive for _so_ long.

'**As you have, repeatedly.**' He regarded her irritated brow, twisted mouth and hard, glaring eyes. They didn't seem to be going anywhere, if they were going to continue on like this until the end. '**Perhaps, it would be better if we changed the subject of conversation?**' He offered, while extending a hand out to her. Thessaly paused, before glancing down at the white, outstretched palm and then back up at the face of the tall, young man dressed in black, who was too thin.

'…You mean, you want me to stay for a little longer?'

'**If it would not inconvenience you in any way, lady.**'

'But… just look at how far we've gone on, for. It's going to end soon, and I might not come back until later. _Much_ later.'

'**That is possible. Though perhaps, if we took this somewhere else, such as a different setting, it might prove more fruitful for us both.**'

The witch-woman considered this offer for a brief second in her mind, then took the hand of the King of Dreams and walked away with him, certain only that what had just happened now was over, and that what was going to take its place had yet to come.


End file.
